Norah's Recollection of Alone (One shot)
by Wyldehart
Summary: The Current Challenge on the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers Group: Major scene as told from the perspective of a minor character. I had Norah tell what she recalled of Fenris' revenge of Danarius. It largely matches the quest with a few changes to have it make some sense (to me) and Norah's mind wanders a bit at times. I squeezed in some sensuality, extreme violence and sweetness.


"Hands off my bleeding ass, you fuck!" I yelled at the drunk idiot behind me as I walked past him. He reached again and swatted him and growled, "Don't mess with me, Von. I got claws you ain't seen on a woman before and I ain't afraid to use 'em." He grumbled something about women needing to put out more than they do but thankfully kept his hands to himself. I didn't take that shit from nobody, not Corff and not the patrons o' this stinking hole.

I looked over at Varric perched at his regular table, a dandy hand of cards in his fingers and a smile on his face that told me he was about to lay down. Another hand of Wicked Grace won by the dwarf! Maker wonders that the man ain't cheating but Varric, for all his lies and tall tales ain't never been known to cheat at cards. Not that it ain't possible, just that I never heard of him doing it. For six years I watched him play this game, his eyes on the room as much as on his cards, his ears visiting every table, his mind absorbing every word that drifted their way. He could have owned this city if he wanted to; instead, he owned the gossip.

"Norah! I need another pint! Say, why don't you an' me head up to my room for a lit'le fun, eh, Norah?" said the drunk bit to my left. I plunked down his mug and tossed my hair a bit proud-like and said, "Not if you were the last man in Thedas." It was a game, I suppose. Ten years I'd been tossing ale and whiskey while the boys tossed blood an' vomit onto the floors. I've cleaned up a lot of their shit from these bastards in all that time and judging from the folks coming in, it was about to happen again.

I walked up to the tall, imposing fellow with gray hair and overly ostentatious robes and attempted a smile, "Greetin's, fellows, pick any table you like." He peered down his nose, literally as it was straight with a hook that ended right above his thick-lipped mouth and he said, "Out of my way, whore." I bristled but where I would normally put the sods in their place, I ate my words with a tough swallow because this man was a mage, one o' them Tevinter fellows an' I knew why he was here.

A red-haired elf looked at me and murmured, "I am meeting Fenris, one of the residents here in Kirkwall. Do not breathe a word of anything you see here when he arrives or they will kill you. Do you understand?"

"That poor elf Hawke is helping? No! You can't…!" My words hung in the air but the woman's sad, green eyes, so much like the escaped slave we spoke of, told me she had no choice. Or thought she had no choice. "He was expecting you. He's…excited. First time I ever seen 'im smile he was tellin' Hawke you was comin'. An' instead of a family reunion, you plan to betray the poor sod. I hope he an' Hawke kick your asses." I hissed that last with such venom the elf woman winced and I wondered if she hoped he would win the battle that our bar was going to regretfully become the site of. I hated mage-fights here worse than sword fights; damned demons leave the worst shit behind when they die and fireballs tend to scorch the furniture.

Varania, that was the lass' name, sat down at one o' the empty tables and waited. Varric, I noticed, had quietly slipped away but whether it was back up to his room or out to warn Hawke, I don't know because nobody saw the dwarf leave. I hoped he got himself out. Isabela, meanwhile, was propping up the bar as always, her eyes on me.

Hawke an' Fenris, see, they were like opposite sides o' the same coin. They loved each other. I know they was broken up but the looks they gave each other when they thought the other wasn't looking… Ah! The heart broke when you watched the two. For whatever asinine reason they weren't together, the passion they shared was obvious and the idea of one losing the other…! I hoped beyond hope that Varric would find 'em and warn 'em and when they mopped the floor with that mage they would wind up in a seething heap o' raw sex on this floor, right here… Mmm. Right. Anyway…

One by one I whispered to the folks at their tables that they should either find someplace else to drink or go back to their rooms. Nearly everyone listened. The ones who didn't… Well, there were always thirsty folk here in Kirkwall. Their mothers would miss 'em but we'd get the coin from elsewhere. Corff waved me over as I shooed the rest o' barmaids out into the back room.

"What?" I snapped at him.

"You think something is going down?" he demanded in hushed tones as he took my arm.

"No, I _know _shit's going down. That scary as fuck mage with the fully armed entourage is Danarius, the painted elf's former master that Serah Hawke is mighty fond of. I think he intends to recapture 'im…"

Down the bar a piece from where I stood, Isabela rolled her eyes in my direction and purred into her cup, "Not while I'm here…" I smiled and looked up just in time for Hawke to come strolling in with his big arms, his big legs and his big staff clutched in hands bigger than I'd seen on any mage I ever watched enter the bar. I once bedded the man shortly after he first arrived in Kirkwall and, damn, but he was the sodding best cock I ever had the pleasure of riding. That he would attach himself to the elf, a man who hated mages as passionately as he loved Hawke, was a bit odd to me. I guess they found common ground, somehow. Back then I saw only Gamlen Amell's nephew. I knew I shouldn't have taken that potion before we fucked that night… I'd have been bloody rich! Or… Just seated with a rich man's brat. Whatever. He belonged to the elf now.

I stepped up to them and gestured to Varania, who smiled as she rose. Her eyes met mine but faltered when Fenris reached for her hands. Taking them, he whispered, "I…know you. Your name is Varania and we used to play in our master's garden while our mother worked. I was called…"

"'Leto…" As they talked, Varania's eyes took on a wild look, her fear palpable and Fenris, for all his hopes to the contrary, realized that he had been set up. He was furious, pulling away from her as if he'd been burned, his hopes dashed and his heart asunder. Tears streamed from his eyes as it dawned on him that he really had been betrayed.

"I think we better get ready for a fight," Hawke said softly.

Hurt and angry, the elf watched his sister back up slowly to stand with Danarious, her eyes downcast, tears flowing down her cheeks as she apologized. Hawke touched Fenris' arm in a kind, intimate way that spoke volumes about his deep affection for the elf. For his part, the elf did not flinch away but appeared to lean into the unexpected caress.

He drew strength from it as he faced his old master, who smiled as he approached, his eyes taking note of the way Hawke had protectively slid his arm around Fenris' slender body. I saw him naked to the waist once after a particularly nasty fight in the Hanged Man where he'd been injured pretty badly across his ribs and needed tending. Though lacking in bulk, the elf was cut like a diamond; strong, chiseled and very well defined. His body was art and it was impossible not stare, especially since the lyrium markings went so low they disappeared below his belt. I often wondered if they traced his cock as well…

"…Do I detect a note of jealousy? It's not surprising. The boy is rather…_skilled_…isn't he?" the mage was saying as he raised his hand to his warriors.

"Shut your mouth, Danarius!" Fenris said dangerously, his body lighting up like a pale blue beacon that moved with the grace of a lion. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword and he braced himself for attack.

In a tone reserved for naughty children, Danarius sighed and corrected the elf, "The word is 'Master!'" Then he fled back up the stairs and enshrouded himself in a ball of swirling energy that the elf's blade could not hack through despite repeated efforts. He even tried phasing his hand through the shield but not even that worked. Furious, he bound downstairs and took out his rage on one of the mage's men, his fist piercing the man's chest then gripped his heart and pulled, the pumping organ still clenched in his bloody hand though the man was no longer standing. The elf dropped it and baited the remaining fighters like a fool taunting a bronto during one of those idiotic matches men like.

All at once, the fight broke out and I saw Anders bump Hawke's shoulder hard as he prepared a spell.

"You should have given him up!" the mage spat.

"_Fuck_ you, Anders. You know bloody well how I feel about him and you know I won't ever allow him to be taken again! But you might want to defend yourself since those swordsmen think you're with him even if you would rather be writing another page of your damned manifesto. Head's up, Isabela! I sent one flying to you!" The Champion laughed and raised his staff as an attacker spend toward him, blade aloft that ended up cleaving only air as the big human used a spell that slammed into the man, sending him shooting across the room toward the bar. Corff yelped and ducked as Isabela threw her cup down and joined the fray by pinning the man to the counter with her blades.

"Aww, a present, Hawke? You shouldn't have!" she laughed, jerking her daggers from the man's neck. The lithe woman leapt for the rafters, sprang from one of the beams to come down upon the shoulders of an assailant whose dagger was held in an attempt to slash at Ander's back. The man died before he realized she was even there. "Don't say I never did anything for you, Anders. Wicked Grace later? You can pay me back that way."

"Hah! You know I can't beat you." He whirled as he lashed out with a fireball, easily frying about three of Danarius' guards and nearly singing me. I bolted to hide behind the bar with Corff so that I could watch the battle and maybe keep my ass in one piece at the same time.

"Of course you can't beat me! I'm captain on a ship full of men who live on the game. But you can lose, give me all your coin and maybe, _if_ I'm feeling generous, I might donate some of it back to your clinic," she laughed, tripping a man who ran face on into the hidden bayonet inside Bianca's secret sheath. The amount of blood and viscera clinging to the walls, the floor and the tables now was turning even my stomach as I dodged the worst of it, barely. Corff looked at me with blame in his eyes and I shrugged before peering back over the bar.

Not surprisingly, I saw that the Tevinter mage's warriors lay dead or useless on the floor of the tavern. Furious, Danarius sneered and cut the palm of his hand, blood sprang forth and where the droplets landed, demons of every kind rose. There were fiery rage demons, shades, a seductive desire demon and more and they were all bearing down on Hawke and his friends. Varric ran up the stairs and used the high vantage point to pepper the floor with arrows shot from his precious Bianca while Danarius once again protected himself in a force field that continued to deflect everything. Still, I could see he was weakening, his shoulders hunched. It would not be long…

Soon, even the demons were dead and the elf's former master found his own magic reserves tapped out, his bubble popped and his life at Fenris' mercy. There was no mercy. I watched with twisted anticipation as the former slave gripped the front of Danrius' robe and hauled him to a kneeling position while the man gasped, "Don't, Fenris! I _command_ you-!" With a strength I'd never thought he had, Fenris raised his former master until he dangled like a doll, his body rippling with magical energy.

"You are no longer my _master_!" snarled the former slave as he shoved his other hand through the human's face and solidified it right there inside his skull, destroying the man's brain from within. Blood, bone and gray matter splattered across the room as the man's head exploded with the force of the elf's rage. He then turned on his sister who cringed, pleading for her life, explaining her reasons as Fenris bore down on her, intent on taking her life. She had wanted, expected to be like Danarius and giving up her brother was the only way to do it. For Fenris, it was the absolute worst kind of betrayal.

Anders, ever the instigator, earned an annoyed scowl from all of us as he blasted Fenris for being a "bloody hypocrite who was just jealous," which was further from the truth than any of us could imagine. I feared for a moment that Fenris would kill him but he turned his attention back to his sister instead.

Part of me wanted him to take her life but the other part wanted the woman to suffer for her foolishness the rest of her natural days. Hawke gazed calmly down at Fenris, placed his face close to his former lover's and whispered, "Fenris… Don't do it. It's wrong. This is your sister and for good or ill, she is the only family you have left."

Varric stood on the other side, his hand on the elf's shoulder. "Elf… Killing her won't help you. Believe me; I know." After fighting an internal battle within himself that reddened his face and nearly brought tears to his eyes, Fenris threw her to the ground and turned away as she scrambled to her feet and bolted for the door. I glared at her, eager to never see her ass in here again.

"Leave! Just…go. I never want to see you again," he hissed in a voice hoarse with pain and dark fury.

She did leave but not before imparting a single sad fact: Fenris had fought for the brands to free his family but, evidently, the freedom given his sister and mother was not what he'd hoped. Varania walked out, her head low as Fenris looked around at the mess made of the bar with a heavy sigh. He stood apart from his companions, his head held low and his shoulders slumped. Tears streamed freely from his green eyes as he said, "I thought discovering my past would bring a sense of belonging but I was wrong. Magic has tainted that, too. There is nothing for me to reclaim… I am… alone."

But he wasn't alone. All save Anders approached him as Hawke impulsively reached for the elf's gauntleted hands and he said, "Fenris… _I'm_ still here if you want me… And you have others." I smiled, my eyes near to bursting as I watched Fenris caress Hawke's face with his hand and run his fingers through the shoulder-length red hair in an act of tenderness I'd prayed years for. The smile he gave was small but sweet, brimming with hope. I hugged Isabela then, who hugged me back. But her hug wasn't like mine, no, it was _much_ more exciting.

"Hey, Norah… What say you and I get out of here and head up to your room for a bit? I'm feeling like I need a bath. You can…wash my hair. And my breasts, if you like."

If the elf said much more, I don't know what it was because Izzy had her hand down my dress, fingers teasing my nipples, her mouth over mine. From the corner of my eye, I did see Hawke encircle Fenris' shoulders with his arm, however, as they left, seeming much closer than ever. "I think I need a bath as well," I said with a bit of a laugh.

She pulled me toward the stairs and winked slyly, "We can bathe together. Saves water and time for more…_important_ things, don't you agree? Let the lackeys clean up the room. I have _other_ plans for you." Those plans were the reason the boys never got anywhere with me.

After several days, Hawke returned with Fenris smiling more than I'd ever seen. They touched often, shared looks at the same time and kissed whenever they thought no one was watching. Fenris got better at cards and Hawke got better at helping him win though nobody could beat Isabela, who liked to put her arm around my waist "for luck." Whatever it was that went on after the fight, it was good. I suspect it was also a fantastic fucking that likely lasted days. Maker knows they needed it! How does one recover from three years of blue balls? Hawke wouldn't even nail my ass during his "dry" period.

Though Fenris no longer had blood family, none that he trusted at any rate, he still had Hawke, who was all the family he needed. Alone? Nay. He would never be alone again, this much was obvious in the eyes of the man who loved him.

Fin


End file.
